As told from the heart of God

I remember the day they first crossed paths.
Not just the moment they met—but the ache that came before it.
The prayers whispered in lonely rooms.
The silent hope buried beneath years of disappointment.
The wondering if love had passed them by for good.

I was there.

I had been writing their stories long before they ever saw one another.
And when the timing was right—My timing—I brought them together.
Not because they were perfect. Not because they were unscarred.
But because they were ready.
Willing.
Brave enough to believe that healing was possible.
That trust could bloom again—even in soil marked by past storms.

They said yes.
To each other.
To Me.

And now—here they are.
In the warmth of summer.
Two souls learning how to lean in.

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I See the Way They Walk Through This Season

They’ve learned that love in this season isn’t rushed. It isn’t loud.
It’s found in the quiet rhythms—
The way they make morning coffee for each other.
The evening walks when the cicadas sing.
The whispered prayers before sleep.
It’s how they sit side by side on the porch in silence—
Yet feel so deeply seen.

Their laughter has returned—but so has the grief, sometimes.
Old wounds still surface.
Trust still trembles.
They wrestle with their differences.
They navigate the maze of adult children, former lives, and blended bonds.

And sometimes—quietly, unexpectedly—the past whispers.
A memory. A wound. A voice that once held weight.
The ache of soul ties not fully severed…
Moments that resurface like a shadow slipping through the back door of their peace.

But they don’t let those echoes define them.
They bring them to Me.

And I remind them—this love is holy.
Not chained to what once was, but consecrated in what is.
They are no longer bound to broken places.
They are anchored in grace.
And I am breaking every chain that tries to hold them back from what I’ve declared new.

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This Is What Intimacy Looks Like in My Eyes

Not the flawless picture-perfect romance—
But the sacred resilience.
The choosing. The staying.
The opening of hearts that once swore they were done trying.
The way their hands still find each other in the dark.

This is love after My heart.

It is deeper than physical touch.
It is stronger than fear.
It is rooted in Me.

They are building something eternal now—something the world may not understand.
Because their family doesn’t look traditional.
Their pasts don’t fit in neat little boxes.
Their story has chapters they rarely speak of.

But I know them all.
And I’ve called it good.

Love doesn’t always come early.
Sometimes, it comes right on time.

And when they bring Me into their home—into the decisions, the disagreements, the dinner table prayers—
That’s where the real intimacy begins.
That’s where I dwell.

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Their Story Is Still Unfolding

I’m not done with them.
They’re still being tenderly shaped by My hands.
Still learning what it means to love fully and be fully known.
Still opening their hearts to trust, to healing, to the depth of connection I always dreamed for them.

They are on a journey—
From the whispers of the past to the light of the future.
From soul ties and shadows to freedom and faith.
Every step forward is a letting go…
Of what was.
Of who they used to be.
Of what they thought love had to look like.

And in its place—peace.
Love that lasts.
A new covenant that I have written in grace.

They are creating legacy—
Not from shared blood,
But from shared love, forgiveness, and purpose.

Their porch light stays on.
And I see it—not just on the house, but in their hearts.
It’s the glow of surrender.
Of two souls leaning into Me—again and again.
Inviting Me into the center.
Laying down the past, offering up the present, and trusting Me with the future.

It’s how they welcome Me without needing words.
How they say, “We’re still here, Lord. Still learning. Still Yours.”

Their prayers rise like incense.
Their laughter, their tears, their summer days—
I hold them all.

They are not just living marriage.
They are living a miracle.

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📖 Journaling Prompt for Couples

Take some quiet time together this week. Reflect, write, and pray through the following:

• Where have we seen God’s hand in our story—both before and after we met?
• What fears or wounds are we still learning to surrender to God and to each other?
• How can we grow in spiritual intimacy—prayer, scripture, shared worship—in this season of our life together?
• In what ways has our love become deeper because of our history, not in spite of it?

Optional Reflection:

• Are there whispers from the past or soul ties that still stir in quiet moments—emotional echoes, memories, or former relationships that weigh on our connection?
• How might God be inviting us to surrender those places to Him for healing and freedom?
• What does it look like to fully walk in the new covenant He has established between us?

Porch Light Reflection:

• What does the “porch light” of our marriage look like right now?
• Are there areas of our relationship where we’re still holding the door open for God to enter, heal, or lead us deeper?
• How can we welcome Him more fully—together?

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock…” —Revelation 3:20
“Behold, I make all things new.” —Revelation 21:5

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🙏 Prayer of Surrender: The Porch Light

Father,
We come before You—grateful, open, and willing.
Thank You for being the God who sees our whole story and still chooses to dwell with us.

We surrender it all to You—our past with its pain and learning,
our present with its rhythms and imperfections,
our future with its unknowns and quiet hopes.

May the porch light of our home always stay on for You, Lord.
May our hearts remain open, our lives welcoming to Your presence.
When old wounds whisper, draw us back to Your voice.
When fear tries to close the door, teach us to lean in together—into grace, into truth, into You.

This love, this life—it is Yours.
Be at the center.
Be in every room.
Be the glow that never fades.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

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